


Grab the Breadsticks

by OriginalCeenote



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: And shoes, Bad Blind Dates, Breadstick meme, Emma Frost Loves Cats, F/F, Femslash, Ficlet, Flirting with the Waitress, Fluff, Hasty Exits, Pre-Slash, There can never be enough Ororo and Emma fic, even though there's none out here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 17:43:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16330661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalCeenote/pseuds/OriginalCeenote
Summary: A good looking server takes pity on Emma’s plight during a horrible blind date.





	Grab the Breadsticks

**Author's Note:**

> There can never be enough Ororo/Emma. Ever. And I love the old meme.

“So, what did you say you do again?”

Emma felt the beginnings of a tension headache creep up from the base of her neck. “I’m an editor. I handle submissions from new talent at a publishing agency.” Which she’d already explained a week ago over the phone, when they’d set the date.

Jason gave her a tight, amused little smile. “Oh, that’s right.”

_Ugh._

That was the only way Emma could describe the entire night so far. That, and a waste of perfectly good shoes. Her new Louboutins pinched her toes, but she’d been waiting for a decent occasion to break them in. The new sushi bar, boasting organic, sustainable cuisine seemed like the perfect opportunity. Emma wasn’t overdressed for the venue by any stretch. Half the women in the front serving area looked like “women who lunched.” And fundraised. And sent their children to private schools. And belonged to book clubs and went on silent retreats.

Emma felt a jolt of surprise when the server approached the table with a basket of breadsticks. She glanced up and raised her brow. The woman, tall and elegant, smiled in return. Her lips were glossed in deep plum, and her voice was smooth as cognac.

“We’re promoting the bakery that just opened next door. These aren’t on our menu, but they want to offer a taste of some of the things they offer. These are organic, garlic, basil and asiago cheese breadsticks. On the house. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Breadsticks. In a sushi place. That’s just so weird.” Jason’s eyes crinkled, and he spread his hands in mock confusion. His expression urged Emma to agree with him about the absurdity.

“It’s really not that deep, darling. It’s bread,” Emma informed him as she took one from the basket and bit into it. She nodded up at the server, who smiled again.

“Good, isn’t it?”

“Mm-hmm,” Emma confirmed.

“Wow. Um. So, I’ll just have a water for now. Two waters?” Jason inquired as he turned to Emma.

“Water’s fine. And a gin and tonic with lime. Make sure they put in two lime wedges. Gives it that extra something.”

“Two. Limes,” the server recited under her breath as she scribbled it down. “All right. I’ll let you work on those breadsticks and get your drinks. Be back in a minute.”

“Just a minute?” Jason scoffed as she retreated from the table. Emma rolled her eyes. “Pretty mighty assumption in a place like this. I bet the kitchen’s backed up tonight, in a place this new.”

“People always love new places,” Emma agreed easily.

“And new people,” Jason pointed out. Emma’s smile was tight as a drum.

“So, Don mentioned that his girlfriend had a friend. Selene knows all the right people, so… here we are.”

“Oh, let’s not be hasty. I’ve been friends with Selene since middle school. She knows a few of the wrong ones, too.”

Jason chuckled nervously, but then he leaned in, as if he hoped Emma might spill some entertaining details, and take the responsibility off of him to be _interesting_. “Is that your natural hair color?”

“Oh, it’s mine.” _Oh, Lord._ She refrained from dropping her sister Cordy’s favorite joke: _Of course it’s mine. I paid for it, didn’t I?_

“Have you ever worn it short? You know, you have the bone structure to pull it off. The last girl I dated had this blunt bob with bangs that really-”

“No.”

He looked stunned that she’d interrupted him, let alone so tersely.

“Sorry,” she told him as she broke off another chunk of breadstick and chewed. “I’m not much of a “bangs” girl.”

Their server returned with their drinks. Jason’s gray eyes flitted over Emma’s drink, and he didn’t miss the way she gulped down half of it before setting it down.

“Sometimes, water’s better when you’re thirsty.”

“Mm-hm.” Emma took a sip of the water just to indulge him, but then set it down and drank more of her G&T, humming in contentment. “Mmm. Mm-hm. I still like the gin better.” She sucked on the lime wedge, and she still had it pursed between her lips when their server came back. 

Amusement danced in the woman’s blue eyes, a deep, luscious cornflower blue. She adhered to the restaurant’s strict dress code, wearing a black buttondown shirt with the sleeves rolled up over the elbow, tapered black slacks, and her pristine, white serving apron. She wore several silver rings on her slender, manicured fingers, and just as many silver studs around the crest of her graceful ear. Long, lush white hair hung down her back in a fishtail braid. Emma longed to run her fingers over the snug weave of those locks, just to see how it felt.

“How’s that gin treating you?”

“Give my compliments to the bartender. He didn’t bruise the gin. It’s perfect.”

“He’ll be happy to hear that. Have you decided on what you’d like for dinner?”

“I’ve heard they have an excellent rainbow roll,” Jason suggested. “We could share one, if you want.”

Emma refrained from telling him that she hated sharing food. There was something annoying about two people having to pick from the same plate. “Oh. I haven’t really had the chance to look at the rest of the menu.”

“You know, my favorite is the spider roll. It’s made with softshell crab, and it has a really nice spicy mayo. Has a nice kick to it.” Their server was earning her tip tonight.

“That actually sounds good. Can you bring one of those, two of the rainbow rolls, the miso soup, and some garlic edamame?”

Jason looked flummoxed, until the server turned to him. “Does that sound find to you, sir? Was there anything else you wanted?”

Jason just clapped the menu shut once he realized that Emma had the temerity to order for them both, and three times as much as he’d planned. Their server took the menu and tucked it neatly under her arm.

“I’ll head to the kitchen and have them get that started for you.”

“Excuse me,” Emma asked before she could leave, “can you bring some more of these breadsticks? They’re fantastic.”

“Why not? They’re on the house.” 

“So _good_.” Emma winked up at her. The server’s lips twisted in amusement.

“It would be my pleasure, miss.”

She disappeared back into the kitchen, and Emma focused on the rest of her date. She asked Jason if he belonged to a sports club, triggering a drawn-out dissertation of the merits of cross-fit, kale, and supplements. (“You should ask my trainer to come up with a routine for you. The one he wrote for me was _life-changing._ Who knew I was doing burpees wrong all this time?) Then, he asked Emma “Does being an editor pay well enough to hire a personal trainer? My gym offers a discount on one if you sign up for a three-year membership.”

“There aren’t many things I’m willing to commit to for three years, darling.”

“Oh, it’s a much better deal than month to month.”

“Mm-hm.”

He changed topics slowly or waited for Emma to ask him a question, and he was an expert on _all_ of them, including the greatest voices of women’s literature.

“I always thought the Bronte Sisters were a bit stuffy.”

“You thought wrong.”

He snuck in another story about his ex-girlfriend. Apparently she loved dogs. Jason asked Emma if she owned a dog. Emma mentioned her cat, Persephone, making him chuckle dismissively.

“Cats aren’t real pets. They’re so passive and lack empathy. Dogs are more reliable companions.”

“I’m running low on gin,” Emma announced. She waved a server down, a young man this time.

He paused by the table. “I’ll let Ororo know, because she’s handling your section tonight. I’m sorry. But I’ll tell her you want another gin and tonic.”

“With two limes.”

He nodded and smiled, but it was weak. 

Emma’s attention was drawn by some street buskers outside. The young woman played an acoustic guitar and crooned an old Woody Guthrie song while her partner passed around a hat. “That’s so gauche. Can’t anyone get a real job anymore?” Jason complained as he watched them.

“She’s pretty good.”

“She’s wasting her life. I mean, it’s okay if you like that kind of thing. I like music. But I have a real job. Investment banking pays the bills.”

“That might pay at least one of her bills,” Emma suggested.

“I mean, I played in a band in college. I never pretended I was going to make a _career_ out of it.”

Oh, Lord. He played in a band…

Emma rubbed the back of her neck, but she mustered a bright smile when Ororo, her new favorite person, returned to the table with a fresh gin and tonic with two limes.

“My partner told me you were thirsty. Sorry that took so long. How are we doing over here?”

“Doing just fine, now” Emma took the drink and sipped it gratefully.

“Miso soup and edamame, coming up,” she reminded her.

“Thank you.”

“You’re _so_ welcome.” In close proximity, Ororo smelled like sandalwood and lavender.

It was nice.

 

The evening dragged on. Emma inwardly cursed Selene and her matchmaking failures, already mentally composing the lecture she planned to give her about not arranging dates for Emma with men who weren’t socially aware (and who didn’t like cats). Listening to Jason took energy that Emma belatedly realized she didn’t have.

Emma worked her way through the sushi. The spider roll truly was her favorite. By her third gin and tonic - she needed it once Jason began discussing his high school years and showing her pictures of him on the lacrosse team that he _just so happened to already have on his phone_ Emma was more than ready to go home. She craved Persephone purring on her lap, her Netflix queue, and the rest of the box of chocolate-covered Oreos that she had in the freezer.

“Would you like some more water?” Ororo hovered over them with the pitcher. She skillfully filled Jason’s glass with a smile. But when she leaned over to pour one for Emma-

“Oh! Oh, dear! I didn’t mean that!”

Cold water dashed from the pitcher and straight into Emma’s lap. Emma jumped in her seat, then stared down at her dress in dismay.

Of course it was a white slip dress.

“Oh, this night just took an interesting turn.”

“I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you. I’ll take you get to get cleaned up.” Ororo helped Emma to her feet, pulling out her chair before Jason could rise and do the same.

“Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine. Enjoy the rest of your rainbow roll. I’ll be back.”

Emma felt Ororo’s strong, cool grip on her upper arm as she led her off to the ladies’ room. Everything inside was cool, smooth chrome and marble. Emma noticed her face was flushed, and her eyes were squinting slightly from her headache. The water stain soaked the front of her dress, rendering it almost transparent. Emma could easily see the outline of her underwear.

“Well, this is a how-do-you-do.”

“I’m sorry. But, I’m not sorry.”

Ororo and Emma stared at each other in the mirror. Ororo removed the towel she had tucked into her apron and began to swab down the front of Emma’s skirt.

“You took so much time making yourself look beautiful tonight, but sweetie? Your date is an asshole. I wanted to keep you in gin and tonic to make it a little less painful.”

“It’s not much of a match.”

“I’ve met more interesting furniture.”

Emma bit her lip. “He has a good job.”

“You looked bored to tears.”

“God, yes.”

Ororo continued to clean Emma up. Her hands were gentle, and Emma felt a frisson of heat in her stomach at her cool touch. “I can cover for you, if you want. You can take another minute to get yourself together. I can even let him know that you’re under the weather?”

“I think just revealing my frail, feminine ego will suffice. I look like I peed myself,” Emma pointed out. “Not the way I would want to end a date, most of the time.”

“Except most of the time, you don’t want to end a date. Not if it’s a good one.”

“Right?”

“Then, you know the drill.”

“‘Oh, I’m a mess, I won’t make you walk around town with me looking like this, why don’t we just call it an early night?’” Emma rehearsed out loud.

“You’ve done this before.”

“I could tell you tales.”

“I could give you my number?”

And before Emma could reach into her purse to fish out a pen, Ororo handed her a small, folded napkin. Her name was scrawled in Sharpie pen on it, using girlish, curling letters. Emma’s mouth went dry when Ororo tucked it into her palm, then curled Emma’s fingers around it.

“Tell me some tales, sometime.”

“I’m Emma, by the way.”

“That’s a pretty name. If I see you again, wear those shoes. You really pull them off.”

“I can’t wait to pull them off,” Emma countered.

Ororo’s smile made her nose wrinkle. Ororo left the rest room, and Emma followed a minute later.

She offered Jason her spiel, almost word for word what she’d rehearsed for Ororo, and Emma found herself bundled back into her jacket and tucked into an Uber. She headed back to her apartment alone. Persephone padded out to greet her, rubbed her cheeks against Emma’s knees, and covered her damp dress in cat hairs.

It was good to be home.

She set down the bag of breadsticks that Ororo thoughtfully packed for her while Jason had settled the check.


End file.
